


they're both princes in this one

by antoekneestark



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Ultimates), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Politics, Alternate Universe - Royalty, BAMF Steve Rogers, Coming Out, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony, Idiots in Love, Multi, Mutual Pining, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Probably Maybe But Not Really Slowburn, Steve Rogers Feels, Stony - Freeform, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, but go read the book anyways, no beta we die like clowns, stevetony here is basically a mix of ults 616 and mcu, you don’t have to read the book that’s why it’s an au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2020-06-26 12:42:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19768429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antoekneestark/pseuds/antoekneestark
Summary: Steve Rogers is the first son of the United States The entire nation sees him as America’s golden boy. Handsome, smart, charming, and overall perfection– Steve is an icon to the youths of America. But Steve, well he has one little issue. He thinks Prince Anthony, yes the british prince, is a big jerk. Arrogant and an overall asshole.So when an encounter between the two results in chaos, Steve and Anthony “call me Tony” are thrusted into a PR stint of being best friends. But soon enough, they both come to the realization that they want more, and there, bloomed a secret relationship between the first son of the united states, and the prince of England.





	1. Natural Disasters Are Bound to Happen

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so this is going to be my first multi-chaptered WIP, it's based on the book Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston and the book is so AMAZING you should def give it a try! I'm sorry for any mistakes I make, but uh enjoy!

The white house is grand. White tall pillars, green grass, tennis courts. The white house is also a cage. It’s gated for everyone to see, an attraction for people to lurk. People always remarks to him, they ask him, what is it like to live in a place of history? 

The residence is wonderful, he admits. It’s also convenient for him. When his mom became president, it was a wonderful and glaring transition. Long before the white house was a dump apartment in brooklyn in which he called a home, and then things sky rocketed. His grandparents were Irish immigrants, fleeing the country at times of great peril, and now he’s america’s first son. 

The east and west room face each other, a place of residence habited by the president’s children. Usually, the children of presidents who live in the white house are... well, younger than him. But Steve sits at 21 years old, a student at Georgetown, aspiring politician, and he sits on the roof access through his window. He thinks of how not many know about the place except the few people who also lived in the room where he now lives in past times. 

He walks back in and inspects his room, the grey walls and plus carpeting. And he wonders if he’ll leave the place in just about a year or not. Only time will tell. Steve also notices something else, and that’s the fact that he’s starved. Being starved in the white house could mean stealing something from the kitchens. But Steve is not an expert with that, thankfully though,

“Hey Buck, what did you steal tonight?” He peeks into the room right across from him. 

“Just some egg rolls, want some Stevie?” Bucky is his best friend, his brother. His Ma and Pa adopted him as a child after he lost his parents in a car crash and they’ve been thick as thieves ever since. 

“Throw me.” Steve sits down on one of Bucky’s bean bags, his obsession with them is definitely startling. The thing about Bucky is, he’s very different from Steve. As soon as he turned 18, Bucky enlisted in the army. He lost an arm in combat on his second tour and was honorably discharged, at the time it broke his Ma’s heart incredibly. Now, Bucky’s all better. He has his prosthetic and hey, Bucky bitches about it all the time but he’s pretty sure it’s a coping mechanism. But Bucky is doing great. He’s been dubbed a style icon or something like that by everyone. And he adores it.

“You picked out your shit for the royal thing yet ?” Bucky asked over a mouthful of egg rolls.

“Nah, I don’t think I’ll bother with that,” Steve shrugs, grabbing one of the magazines Bucky has on the floor. Bucky’s other obsession is with tabloids and teen magazines, which is... weirdly endearing. 

“Punk, Angie will kill you” 

“Relax, I picked something out. And it’s been approved and everything too!” Steve says. “Anyways, what’s up in your tabloids this week?” He asks Bucky out of curiosity. It’s always interesting to know what people are talking about, especially if it’s about him. It’s not narcissism or anything, he’d just prefer to be aware.

“There’s some bullshit about you on page 10, and I’m on the cover again.” Bucky looks smug. And that’s because they have a bet that Bucky will be featured on the cover of a tabloid in a month’s time or not, but that was two weeks ago. Now, Steve is two alexander hamilton’s short in his wallet.

“Jerk.”

“Punk.”

Bucky throws a magazine at him. A move uncalled for. As a child Steve would respond accordingly and throw a magazine back at him, but he is not a child. 

“Looking forward to England?”

Steve frowns at this, a displeased feature starting to cross his face.

“I don’t know,”

“Jesus Steve, is it still the prince?”

“I fucking hate him Buck. He’s so arrogant and just- I want to punch him every single time I see him.”

“Ease it in soldier.”

“I can’t STAND him,” and it’s true so far. Steve met the elusive Prince Anthony Edward Stark around four years ago. Then, he wasn’t yet FSOTUS. But that didn’t give Prince “Tony” the rights to be a jerk to him. 

But it was more than that. When he was young he viewed the prince of England as someone he wanted to be. Anthony was amazing. He was charming and smart. But also, everyone loved and adored him. But then, then he had to ruin it by being a total dick towards Steve. And well- it’s just meant to be. They’re supposed to be natural born enemies. Steve was as close to what America could call royalty, and Tony, well- he’s the prince of England. It’s like they’re arch nemesis’s that are just destined.

“Who hurt you?”

“He did.” Bucky rolled his eyes at this statement.

“If only you knew how to... well, just stop talking about him?”

“I don’t talk about him,”

“Sure Jan”

“Piss off, Buck.”

“Goodnight Steven.”

——

The air force one is a sight to behold. Before his mom’s career, Steve had never even step foot on an airplane. Now, he’s flying trans-atlantic on one of the world’s most expensive and secure plane. The leather chairs are comfortable, and Steve is buried deep in his book, A Little Life, it’s titled. And it’s a touching read. Next to him there’s Natasha, Natasha is the VEEP’s adoptive daughter, she’s also his best friend. Natasha is amazing. She’s brilliant, beautiful, smart, and overall a sight to behold. Dugan, the giant ginger of a secret service agent is on a crosswords race with her, and it’s evident that he’s losing. Bucky, on the other hand is reading politico. Which frankly is an unusual read when it comes to Bucky.  
See, Steve, Bucky, and Natasha are dubbed the white house trio, it’s amazing PR. Together, the three of them are iconic, show-stopping, and the absolute darlings of America.

Even after three years of this life, Steve still sees it as a marvel. The fact that he’s doing private air travel? Well that’s a luxury he’s never had and he’ll continue to be amazed by everyday.

They landed in London with quite a fanfare. The city is beautiful, and Steve thinks of how much history is present in every little crook of it. He texts Sam a picture of the streets, updating him about their day. Sam sending stickers back to him. Steve never understood the concept behind replying to other people’s messages with just stickers.

“...the main reception starts at 19.00, the reveal will be done there. Madam president you will shake hands with King Howard as a sign of officiating a new step in U.S-England diplomatic relationship.” Angie drones on and on about their agendas, and Steve is getting tired of listening. He knows that he just has to behave, sit tight, be pretty, be nice, and waste taxpayer’s money on a useless ceremonial role in which the monarchy is. 

“Whatcha thinking about punk?” Bucky bumps Steve’s shoulder, getting a response of a dirty look from Steve.

“Just how useless this whole thing is, and oh god especially the british government system.”

“You know we stemmed off them?”

“Well at least we weren’t stupid enough to keep a monarchy,” Steve is truthfully repulsed at the thought of having to attend tonight’s event. He wished he could’ve just stayed home. But his Ma told him to put duty over preference ever since he was a child. He knows what to do.

——

It isn’t that bad. He thinks. The bar is open, it’s free. He’s on his second flute of champagne. Steve sports a black tuxedo, a true classic customized just for him. He talks to various important people he can’t remember the names of, and makes jokes with Bucky and Natasha in the back.

“What’s a viceroy?” Bucky questions, his own flute of champagne in his hands. 

“I don’t know, but I’ve been listening to people saying it all night,” Steve sighs. Pretentiousness is a disease.

“Tasha didn’t you take the international diplomatic briefing thing whatever? What’s a viceroy?”

“Don’t be stupid Barnes-“ Natasha was cut off to the announcement of the entrance of the prince. Stupid, annoying, prince Anthony. Who not only is late, but is also strutting arrogance with a goddamn burgundy suit. It almost makes his blood boil.

The prince walks towards them. And Steve admits that he’s ready to face whatever the prince will state upon him. But perhaps he’s playing a different game tonight. Because he goes to Natasha, and he asks her for a dance. 

“Do you think he’s doing that just to piss me off?”

“I don’t know Stevie, he seems real nice to me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Let it rest.”

He watches Anthony and Natasha dance in the ballroom. He also sees the photographers lining up to take pictures of the two. He summarizes, Natasha is an amazing dancer, Anthony is... just using her for attention. And there’s a chance it might have set him off.

It’s been awhile, and Steve feels a little tipsy. He’s been minding his own business for a bit now, which it seems is not what most people do at such events. But Steve is not most people. And apparently, the same can be said for prince Anthony, because Steve spots him near the corner of the room, leaning on a wall with a drink in his hands. Steve makes the executive decision of going over to him.

“Your royal highness,” 

“Mr. Rogers,” typical aristocrats, always having to establish their status on those with lower status than them.

“First drink there? You’ve got a lot too catch up on.” 

“May I beg to know your intent of this conversation?” The prince raises his eyebrows, taking a sip of what looks like scotch.

“Oh wow, no need to be such a jerk about it.” Steve realizes two seconds too late that he probably shouldn’t have called a prince that straight to his face.

“Oh dear, I’m sure you’ve had a bit too much to drink there.”

“Oh fuck off.” And again, Steve is hit by the same bound of realization.

“And my point still stands,”

“Why do you do that? ...act like that? Is it hard to just be decent and not a jerk?”

“I don’t understand your point, really. At all of our encounters I’ve been civil towards you.”

“Seriously your highness? You’re going with that move?”

“What move? And please, call me Tony.” He’s so irritating. And maybe Steve has had two too many drinks.

“You’ve always had this look in your eyes, as if you’re looking down on me. As if I’m not worth you or worth your time. You just- don’t like me”

“I’d like to think you’re wrong. I’ve been nothing but civil, every time. Perhaps you’re just overthinking it. And I really would suggest a tad bit of a break for you,” 

“Do I annoy you? are you mad that I’m not flaunting and obsessing over you?”

“Actually it’s quite the opposite. You came to me. You were the one who- came up with your little foolish analysis and so, on the contrary. I believe that you, Steve Rogers, are obsessed with me. Now have a nice day.” Tony then walks away, drink in hand. It enrages Steve to think that this is how the scenario played out. He’s not willing to let the prince have the last word. 

In a flurry of motions, Steve found his hand lying on Tony’s shoulder, earning a reaction from Tony. Moments later, Tony turned his body around, this time, almost pushing- heck, of course he pushed Steve. The nightmare part was that Steve didn’t find his balance. He stumbled- tripped over his own feet, feeling his body slowly going into a horizontal flop.

In a short moment of salvation, Steve finds his hands reaching towards Tony’s sleeves. The end results of such action would be the prince falling with him. Falling on top of him.

And chaos reigned. Moments too late, Steve finds himself a mess. Tony is now beside him. Their suits are drenched of various toppers from foods and beverages, lines of tables decimated in their past. Worst of all, the centerpiece of the entire ceremony was found broken, lying on the floor. And Steve- well Steve is highly aware of what he’s done. But is he?

Camera flashes penetrates through his eyes, the moment of the two princes of the western world being spluttered in mess have now been immortalized and will make it to the cover of every newspaper, gossip rag, and magazine.

“Oh fucking christ. Perfect.” Steve isn’t surprised to find Tony as the source of the cursing. His suit and hair a mess and face clearly frustrating, frozen in spot for seconds.

Well, what is a white house term without a little bit of spice? And perhaps causing an international accident alongside the prince of england should break all expectations everyone has ever had on bets of his first international incident, right?


	2. protect impulse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve deals with the consequences of his actions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this overdue chapter! I might post another one today or tomorrow to make up for it tho! I hope you enjoy it!

“Steve. Steve, wake up. Rogers!” Bucky is currently shaking Steve awake, frustration creeping in by the second. He hears the sound of Steve groaning awake.

“...Bucky?”

“No fucker, I’m the angel of death.”

“It’s four in the morning.”

“Get up, we’re going for a run.”

“At four in the morning?”

“At four in the morning.”

So Steve gets up, he gets dressed, and he goes for a run. Dawn means the vibe is eerie, it’s still dark, and the sun will creep in in a bit, but for now, it’s just the street lights and the sounds of their feet on the ground, lifting and stomping. If Steve was naive, he would think that Bucky was merely trying to get exercise without having to draw attention to himself. But Steve is not none-the-wiser, it would be a mistake to think that Bucky has no ulterior motive.

“So?” Steve turns his head towards Bucky, his breaths heavy and sweat rolling down his face.

“Let’s stop here,” and so they come to a halt, their secret service agents stopping right with them.

“I’m gonna be honest here Stevie, we have to talk about the incident. I’m not gonna say much but Angie wants to talk to you so, just say yes, okay punk? Try not to be a smart ass,” Steve didn’t need Bucky to tell him that, it’s not as if Steve was actually that reckless. He knows he messed up, and he also knows that he has to make up for it. For him, his mom, and the united states. Whatever it takes.

———

So yes, Angie did call Steve into her office. And Steve of course, is going to heed Bucky’s advice. Currently, Steve is sitting down in the Deputy Chief of Staff’s office, waiting. Being the first son, he takes the privilege of being able to walk around the west wing to the fullest and tries to go take a look and study the work they do nearly everyday, really. Seldom does he skip the opportunity to do it when presented.

Angie walks in with a literal bang, smart suit with a pencil skirt, 4-inch-heels and the grace and power of Washington.

“Steve.” She sits right across him, posture straightening up. Angie has been working with his mom ever since her senatorial run, she’s like second family to them, almost.

“Hey Angie,” Steve greets back sheepishly. He knows what he’s here for and he’s ready to get it over with.

“So, you are a very lucky man Steve Rogers. I managed to have a deal with the office of his majesty the King, and guess what? We both want this to go away.” Angie sounds cheery, but there’s a certain edge to her voice causing Steve to be suspicious. There’s more, there’s always more.

“And?” He inquires.

“And this means that we’ve managed to fix something up. You and the prince? You guys are best friends. The accident? Just a little bit mishap between two best friends.” Steve’s eyes widen at the sentence best friend. Steve, Steve has to pretend to be best friends with his arch-rival?

“I’m sorry what?” Angie sighs exasperatedly.

“You two, as far as the world can see, are best friends. I don’t care how you act between closed doors, but you’re best friends. I scheduled a visit for you to London, you two will do events, and you’ll be photographed.”

“Why do I have to be the one to go to London?”

“Because, you mucked up. And, the royal family are already going here for the state dinner in a few months.”

Steve tries to make a list in his head, what exactly would be the benefits of him going to London and pretending to be friends with a guy he hates, a guy who hates him. First of all, he’ll get out of the bad books of the entire west wing. Second of all, he won’t jeopardize us-uk relations which could be dangerous for the future? He sees absolutely no reason as to why he should refrain from going.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Of course I’ll do it, I try to own up to my mistakes you know?”

“So you’ll fly out there, you two will have a few scheduled shoots and events where you’ll portray yourself as best friends. The royal family has agreed to host you in Kensington, and here’s the detailed schedule.” When Steve looks over his schedule, well- it doesn’t look so bad, it actually seems pleasant enough.

“So I just have to do this and then that’ll be it, right?”

“Of course not. The world has to actually think that you two are best friends. Which means that this little arrangement will be going on for quite some time. But as far as everyone can see, it’s been going on since forever, right?”

“I don’t even know him?”

“Of course you do, he’s your best friend.” Angie hands Steve a file, inside it is everything he probably needs to know about the prince.

“And best friends know everything, from birthdays to favorite foods. Better read up Steve” he leaves Angie’s office after that, returning back to the residence.

Currently, the walls of his room isn’t entertaining. Actually, it never has been entertaining. Steve has been thinking about the file in his hands for the past few minutes now. He also thinks about the fact that a similar file with a similar list is currently in the hands of someone way across the pond. So, with them being in the same predicament, well, Steve just knows he’ll do it better.

And so he reads.

At this point, he’s come to the conclusion that the prince is the most boring person ever. Literally, ever.

——

[Text to: Bucky Barnes]

‘He’s boring.’

_Oooo you got the file?_

I did. And I’m  
convinced that  
he’s the most boring  
person in existence.

_Lol.  
Why?_

His favorite book is  
a Dickens book. HIM.

_And?_

Oh, he’s like- perfect?  
He plays the piano, which  
is cool. BUT he plays polo.  
And the game where you hit  
a ball with a hammer.

_So, sporty and well read._

Did I mention that he’s  
practically every brit  
stereotype in existence?

_He’s the prince of England  
he IS the british stereotype._

I mean, sure.

_I’m otw to your room, quiz time :D_

Please don’t.

——

True to his words, not ten seconds later, there’s a knock on his door. The temptation to ignore the sound and not let Bucky in is supermassive. But he breaks, and he opens the door for Bucky.

Steve is greeted by Bucky opening his mouth in a talking motion. Raising one finger immediately, Steve hushes Bucky. “Shush, later.” Bucky doesn’t like that, so he bites Steve’s finger.

“Buck, that’s gross!” He pulls out his finger from Bucky’s mouth.

“Okay brat, it’s time for a pop quiz.” Bucky flops onto Steve’s bed automatically lying down and opening the file. “Answer correctly, and you’ll get a sour patch, Answer wrongly, and I get a sour patch.”

“But he’s too boring.”

“For every boring fact, you’ll get a dollar.”

“Deal.”

“Let’s start, name of relatives?”

“He has an older brother named Arno, who’s currently serving in the british military. His dad is the king, King Howard. His mom’s Name is Maria, she was an actress and musician when she was alive, she was Italian-English which technically makes the prince a quarter italian.”

“Overkill much?”

“Preparation is the best weapon.”

“His favorite music genre is... wow, that’s pretty boring.”

“Old rhythmic jazz. Give me a dollar.” Steve gains a Washington.

“Okay, and his favorite food?”

“Fish and chips.”

“Stereotypical brit it is.”

“That’s what I told you!”

“So here you have someone branded as a musical genius who’s a british stereotype and according to you... boring?” Bucky closes the file, his eyebrows raised.

“Exactly.”

Bucky flips himself, now lying on his back. Making Steve have to deal with an upside down face.

“What are you gonna call him?” Steve piques at this, that doesn’t make sense. Clearly his name is right there? Is he supposed to call him bro?

“Umm... his name?”

“I know that. But, you two are supposed to be best friends, right? You can’t call him Anthony or prince Anthony?”

“So, a nickname?”

“Yes Stevie, a nickname.”

“Maybe... Tony? He told me to call him that when the incident happen.”

“Tony it is.” Tony sounds great, Steve thinks to himself. It’s somehow... more relaxed, better.

“Tony.” He finds himself saying it out loud in a bare whisper, electing a small smile from Bucky.

“Well, good luck Stevie. God bless the king, and god bless america.”

And now, off to woo the world into the mindset of him and the prince being best friends it is.

————

There’s a private airstrip in Heathrow London, that same chunk of land is what Steve is seeing as the plane begins its ascend. And then, it’s off to the city. Steve’s personal security detail includes agents such as Dugan, or, affectionately known as Dum Dum, who’s currently drawing his schedule list.

“The prince will pick you up here, and there’ll be a few photographers to welcome you and the presence of the prince. After that, we head to Kensington where you’ll stay for the rest of the trip. It’s a rest day, Steve. The action begins tomorrow,” Steve is glad, but he’s also nervous as to what to come. First, prince Tony(?) is picking him up, so he’ll have to face him the moment he lands. Great.

And speak of the devil, the moment his plane lands, there’s a car. It’s nice, it’s fancy. And he expects nothing less. Tony steps out of the door as he goes down the stares, and the cameras start to flash.

“Steve, nice to see you.” The prince flashes him a smile, offering Steve a hand to shake. At this moment, the proper thing would be to shake his hand, but hey, what are formalities between best friends? He grabs Tony’s hand and pulls Tony into a hug, earning a gasp and a shocked look from Tony. So he does have emotions after all.

“Your highness, I’m happy to be here.” Steve pulls out of the hug to Tony’s raised eyebrow. In but a second, a flung has been armed around Steve’s shoulder, the source of it no other than the guy next to him. Tony. Who happens to be, well... shorter than him.

They walk awkwardly in that position towards the car. “Steve, this is Peggy, my detail. And this is Jarvis, he follows me around.” Tony points to the two people standing by the car, and Steve gently waves his hand at them.

The moment Steve enters the car, it’s silent. Tony’s hand loses its place around Steve’s shoulder, and the prince straightens up his clothes, taking off his sunglasses. Well maybe Steve is staring, he’s not gonna lie when he says Tony looks exactly like the prince charming he is.

“Let’s get this over with.” Tony looks at him, his tone full of unimportance. Great. Just when he thought it won’t be that bad of a week.


	3. Share Your Address

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve arrives at Kensington— Steve and Tony bonds in a dark place (literally)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this VERY overdue update! Good news is I finally got over writer’s block and I’m already starting the next chapter so the wait shouldn’t be that long. Don’t forget to leave a kudos and a comment to tell me what you think about it!

Chapter 3:

Steve is instantly shown to his room, the golden hallways of the palace seemingly glowing as he walks through it. There are murals, carvings, and art pieces strewn across which he for sure will take extra time to appreciate. He has to admit though, the lodging given to him in Kensington is quite grand, grander than even he expected for sure. Steve steps into his Kensington apartment and he flops down on the soft king-sized mattress, his body automatically sinking in. In all honesty Steve wants to do nothing more but rest, there’s just something about sleeping on an airplane that somehow never satisfies him and always leaves him with a deep feeling of ache and tiredness. So he slowly lets his eyes drop— until a knock interrupts him. Part of Steve is expecting the knock to be the prince at least attempting to be a gracious host, but he knows it’s probably the maidservants or the butlers carrying his luggages. 

  
“Go on in,” he gestures them along, letting them lay his bags on the compartment. He notices just how impeccable the clothing of the royal housemaids are, well-pressed and well-fit just like those of the secret service men bugging him everywhere. Once they’re done, Steve nods a thanks and retreats back towards the room. 

When he’s back in bed, he’s distantly aware that he probably shouldn’t have laid down in the first place. He still has to change, and probably make an appropriate showing at dinner. But the mattress is so comfortable, the pillows just firm enough, and the duvet warm and hugging, Steve just… he absolutely does not want to move, not an inch. A yawn and two, a bit of rolling around, and Steve’s eyes are closing. So he sleeps.

The moment he comes back into consciousness, the light of the sun has been replaced by the faint glow of the lights right outside his bedroom window. Steve groans and dives back into the pillow, still feeling hazy from the sleep. It’s already nighttime, no one would mind him spending the whole day sleeping, probably. He notices that he’s still wrapped in his uncomfortable day clothes, the tight fit of the jeans causing a low ache in his body, sweatpants hours it it. 

Now in much much more comfortable clothes, Steve walks out of his apartment in search for a pantry, he’s god fucking famished, that’s for sure. He walks aimless in the hallways, frowning at the fact that he’s probably gonna get lost here in less than five minutes. Maybe, just maybe Steve regrets not asking for a tour around the palace. Eventually he walks into a kitchen space, is it? And calmingly grabs for the fridge. That is, until he sees a silhouette of a man next to him, causing him to jump a bit, “Jesus!”

“My mom’s Maria, not Mary. So no, not Jesus” Is that… Tony? What is he doing here? Stop being dumb Steve, it’s Tony’s house, of course he’s here. “Late night grumbles?” He enquires at Steve.

“Yeah, uh, I was just looking for a quick bite, you know, at the pantry… which I suppose is not here?” Okay so Steve may be a fool who does not know how to act in front of the charming prince he hates at two in the morning.

“I prefer for some ice lollies at this time of night, but something creamy is at due, so join me for some ice cream?” 

The prince offers to him and hell, who is Steve- hung and tired to refuse?

“Sure, what you got there?” Tony sits on the kitchen island, sitting down the pint of ice cream “Belgian chocolate, tickle your fancy enough, Steve? Grab a spoon” Steve just shrugs and grabs a spoon, sitting next to Tony on the island, and they eat ice cream in silence.

“So, you wear glasses?” Steve breaks the silence.

“Just for reading and such, why?” Tony nods at him after spooning another spoonful of ice cream. 

“Just, wasn’t in your file,” Steve nonchalantly says. He has to admit that the glasses makes Prince Charming even more charming. 

“The file? Oh you were briefed in that too, huh? Try not to trust everything you read Steve, in the papers or even in the official papers,” Tony’s tone sounds… condescending but Steve is going to let it go, just this once.

“Well then maybe you can fill in the blanks for me, your highness. We  are best friends after all.” Steve says, perhaps lined with a bit too much snark. Okay so maybe he’s not letting it go. 

“You know what, Steve? You’re absolutely right, so let’s put on a little show, that fine with you?” Steve is surprised that the prince stays absolutely neutral towards his response.

“With the interloper first son, say hi to the brittons Steve,” The prince’s phone is directed towards him, obviously recording. 

“Hi there” Steve smiles at the camera with a small wave. “And that, is going on my instagram. Midnight ice cream of a couple of besties” Tony grins, making a few gestures on his phone, most likely editing and posting the video. 

“Alright there, I’m off. You probably should get a bit of shut eye as well, bright and early tomorrow, remember?” The prince slides off the island, fixing Steve with a wave as he turns his back and makes a graceful exit. 

Steve then sits alone in a pantry, the pint of ice cream still opened on the island. 

The next morning the two ride to a studio for an interview. Steve admits, he’s a bit nervous. The facts that he’s riding on an empty stomach is not helping at all, breakfast didn’t really sound all too appealing to him earlier, but he’s severely regretting that decision now. Tony is sitting next to him, getting crowded by various attendants. There’s one combing his hair, one reviewing the approved interview notes, and various others lining his perfectly fit jacket. “All booted up, Steve?” The prince tilts his head next to him in question. Steve nods and looks at the yellow pill Jarvis has just given to Tony, the prince consuming it in an instant. Probably none of his business. Steve fiddles with his collar as the motorcade stops in front of the studio, outside can be seen people holding up signs, and flags of both the UK and America. Steve also hears their excited cheering, waiting in anticipation for the arrival of him and Tony. “See you in the front lines, Steve.” Tony flashes him one last smile as the prince steps out of the car to greet his royal subjects. Dashingly, accordingly, and smooth. The cameras eat up Tony’s presence, the lights of them instantly flashing. And then Steve steps out.

He decides that the hosts of the show they’re going to be appearing in are agonizingly british, George and Elizabeth, both middle aged and wearing clothes as if they were off on a tea party right before the interview. It’s not long until he hears introductions being delivered, shuffling his feet and exhaling as a last shot to let go of his nervousness. “Simply relax and follow my lead, darling.” The prince pats him in the back and walks outside, Steve following closely behind him.  Darling? Is that royal protocol?

He doesn’t really have the time to dwell, well certainly not right now, that is. They both sit on the prop couch together, Tony crossing his legs, with Steve making a show of extreme comfort around the prince, smiling and leaving lingering looks. Okay so perhaps the lingering looks is also because of how dashing the prince looks in the suit, or how soft his hair is, the brown waves slightly curling. And not to mention, his striking blue eyes perfectly paired with his gleaming white teeth laughing along. 

“So, Steve, how has England been treating you?” the question is asked by Elizabeth, with him responding perhaps a moment too slow.

“Oh I think it’s lovely! Ever since my mom became president, we started travelling a lot, and England has been one of my favorite places to visit. London especially has an amazing history and art scene. It’s simply second to none,” The crowd cheers at his answer, and Steve relaxes his shoulders a little, his arm now on Tony’s shoulder “And of course, there’s no greater joy than seeing Tony,” 

The prince looks scandalized at how easily Steve has essentially grabbed him into a half-hug. But really, he shouldn’t. It’s just payback over the other day after all. The crowd cheers louder and it’s evident that seeing one of their princes be personal with anyone is a hasty and rare occasion. And yeah, maybe that’s why he hates politics so darn much. Everyone’s always a shell of a version of themselves, faking it till their making it. But perhaps that’s also why Steve likes politics so much- because truly, he just wants to change up things in the homeland. 

So Steve accepts all the attention, he appreciates and uses the power, he takes everything thrown at him, because at the end of the day, what matters are the people- he’s here for them. Steve has always cared too much, even in the times where his Ma was still struggling to pay his medical bills with all his sickness, Steve still thought about all the other people who- heck, people who probably don’t even have the chance to live. And so in this case, he’d like to care about people even by only making sure that the sick kids in the NHS Foundation Trust has enough books to go around.

Steve and Tony has commandeered an entire floor of the hospital. He shakes the hands of all the nurses and the parents of the children, flashing gleaming smiles to all of them. He sees Tony starting to talk to the sick kids, a rehearsed smile on his face as photographers take a quick work out of it. And Steve hates it. He never liked to play pretend, and just the thought of using these kids as photo op sickens him to the core. Sadly enough, he’s legally required to be here, but happily enough, Steve focuses on the kids instead. Entertaining every question they have. 

Tony introduced Steve as the son of the American president, and with kids who aren’t shy of asking questions, that causes an uproar. Mixes of‘Do you know Taylor Swift’ to questions on the white house. Steve answers every single one of their questions. These kids deserve the world, and since Steve can’t give them that, he’ll do the best he can. The books that were previously loaded into boxes had finally been taken out, and so Steve decides to grab one, reading it aloud to Tommy, the patient that he’s visiting. He says he loves the turtle and the rabbit, likes the idea of running, of being fast. But he can’t do that, not anymore. Not ever. 

He doesn’t notice that Tommy’s dozed off, so engrossed in reading the story. He steps outside the room quietly, in search of Tony. Tony’s talking to a girl named Daisy, a leukemia patient. She has a bright orange scarf tied around her head, emblazoned with the Alliance Starbird. With how Tony has acted before, Steve expects him to be standing awkwardly, nervous to make real conversation. But to his surprise, he sees the prince kneeling next to the girl “…Star Wars fan?” Tony says in a low, warm voice Steve has never heard from him before.

“It’s my absolute favorite!” the girl, Daisy, perks up instantly. “I’ve always dreamt of being like Princess Leia when I grow bigger. She’s just so tough and smart and amazing, she’s also the leader of the rebellion! And that’s just really cool,” Daisy looks down a little, embarrassed at how excited she sounds. 

“You know what? You definitely have the right idea there, commander.” 

“Do you like Star Wars too? Who’s your favorite?”

“Personally I’ve always been partial to Han Solo. He’s proof that there’s just way more to a person than what meets the eye. And there’s just a very endearing rebellious sense to him that’s unmistakable and endearing, don’t you think?” Star Wars definitely wasn’t in the file. Yet, Steve has never heard the prince speak in a more genuine way. And the one time he does, it’s about Star Wars.

A nurse steps into the room with a bright, prompt greeting, startling Steve and making him almost tip his chair. He’s been caught. Steve stands up and straightens his shirt. “You two can go now, it’s time for her meds,” The nurse says to the both of them.“Miss Bobbi, Tony said we were mates now! Can you believe that,” Daisy looks up excitedly. 

“Daisy, that is no way to address the prince, darling. I’m so sorry your highness,” Tony shrugs at that. “There’s no need to apologize,”

“Rebel commanders, I’m afraid, outranks royalty.” He shoots a wink and a salute at Daisy, and Steve can see Daisy falling absolutely head over heels in love.

“I’m impressed, really. Didn’t know you had it in you to… well…” Steve says as they walk out the hallway together. Tony cocks an eyebrow at him, proposing him to finish the sentence. 

“To care,” and Tony actually grins at this, 

“There’s a lot that you don’t know about me Steve, perhaps we must start to keep a tally,” three things happen in rapid succession before he opens his mouth.

First of all: he hears a loud pop that sounds alarmingly alike to gunfire.

The second: He hears shouting from the other side of the hall

The third: Dum-Dum grabs both him and Tony to shove them both through the nearest door.

The darkness that greets him as abrupt. With Dum-Dum essentially slamming the door on them, along with a very specific comment to stay down. Great. He feels a weight on his chest the moment his body hits the floor-  really? “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Tony says, his voice a bit muffled. And Steve can feel the vibrations from his voice on his chest. 

“We should- we definitely have to stop ending up like this, Steve. It just isn’t ideal for me,” Tony says onto his chest. 

“I’d like to tell you, that this? This is your fault,” Steve is getting pissed. “Do enlighten me Steve, with how our current predicament is the fault of mine and mine alone?” Tony says. 

“Well I’d like to put out the facts here, and I have never ever had an attempt on my life on presidential appearances. But the moment I do it with you I’m stuck in the middle of a murder attempt,” Steve tilts his head down a little almost speaking into Tony’s hair. 

“Oh will you shut up before you get us killed?” Steve does not like the accuse “Oh so it’s my fault now?” He bites back, 

“You know damn well what I’m saying, Steve” Steve cannot believe the guy has the energy and courage to be this irritating when he’s clearly lain across Steve’s body. “Well then, your royal highness. Would you mind getting off me?” at this Tony just rolls over Steve’s body and onto the ground, and he can still feel Tony’s body wedged at his side. “Now would you mind making a little more space here, Steve?” Tony shoves his shoulders against Steve. “I’m  trying and it would be easier if you shut your mouth,” 

He can hear voices and loud footsteps outside, and he guesses that him and Tony will have to get comfortable promptly, because they might be here for awhile.

“You know, Steve, if you’d like to lay out some facts, I regret to inform you that no one has actually ever made an attempt on my life,” 

“Congratulations then, this is your first time,”

“Can I just say I expect a much grander way to die? Really, anything aside having to be stuck in a cupboard with you” Tony snipes at him, and boy does Tony sound pissed. Maybe Steve likes him better that way. Pissed. Tony jabs at his elbow, electing Steve to essentially yanked him sideways until he’s half on top of him. “Didn’t know you were a keener of rough play, Rogers.” Steve does not like Tony. “Can you just shut up?” Steve snaps, his patience is starting to run extremely thin, “Am I pushing all your buttons today, dear?” 

Steve decides at that moment to just shut up. Tony is annoying, clearly self-centered. Sure he’s smart, maybe also a little bit on the handsome side but on god is he annoying. Steve doesn’t have anything else to say, and that’s absolutely striking. Steve is so used to running his mouth off on everyone, even the likes of conservative republican senators and congressmen. So they both lie together in silence, waiting. 

“Never pegged you for a Star Wars guy,” Steve didn’t mean for it to sound so… aggressive. But that’s how it came out anyways.

“Yes, Star Wars. It’s quite bold of you to assume that children of royalty have no interests outside all the prompt and circumstance of the crown,” he can almost feel Tony rolling his eyes, and they’re not even facing each other.

“So you like pop culture stuff, and what? Why don’t you ever talk about anything else a Dickens book or Einaudi in your files? In your interviews? Why do you insist on being…”

“What? A fake?” Steve is startled by the completion. “I wasn’t going to say that,” Steve defends himself. And hey, he’s not lying. He was never going to say that. “But you were thinking it, Steve. I know you were,” Steve bites his lips, okay maybe Tony is not so wrong in all his assumptions and assertions. 

“I’d like to inform you that I did not, at all, asked for this. You seem to find any form of my companion insufferable and so I think it’s due a reminder that you, Steve. Started all this, got it? Are you aware that you need our little show more than I do? And so, if you find my companion to be  so horrifying. Then I suppose we ought to stop shall we?” Tony tenses next to him. “Look, if you weren’t such a jerk in the first place then maybe I can find your companion much more pleasing, but you were- heck, you  are .” 

“What in the bloody hell could you possibly have against me that’s so strong, Steven? Why do you despise me so?” Well, here goes nothing, right?

“Fine, we can do this if you want. Do you remember the first time we met?” Steve is slightly sitting up now, he’s going to need it for the conversation to come.

“Not in vivid detail, but I remember it being a sporting event. Was it the world cup? I remember you threatening to push me into the Bronx river,” Tony sighs.

“Really? You don’t even remember the time you were all in your high horse being a condescending prick in the Olympics?”

“Perhaps you can jog my memory on it,”

Steve’s previously already thin patience is reaching its limit “I just had met your father, and so he was introducing me to you. And then, the moment he left me alone with you, you just stood there and stared at me as if I was trash you picked up off the Thames, and then you turned towards Jarvis and said, right in front of my face ‘Can you get rid of him?”

There’s a pause. Steve can see that Tony is trying to think something through. “Ah.” Then Tony sighs “I had not realized you heard that,” 

“Does it matter? The point is that the sentence you spoke in general is horrible, Anthony.” Tony rubs at his temple. “Alright, fine. Is that all? Only the Olympics?” 

Steve runs a hair through his hair “That was the start of it,” Steve bites his lips. “It’s just… I’m the son of the first female president of the United States, you know? Hell I’m sure you know better than most on what we do, what our jobs are and what we have to go through. Tony, you were so far ahead of me, in so many ways, you know? When people see your name they think of you not only as a prince but they also think of your genius and your laundry list of skills. I, for a while, looked up at you and thought that I’d like to be the ‘prince’ that you are. And to have you essentially regard me as nothing just hurt,”

And then there was quite, a pause for a long time until Tony speaks up.

“Look, Steve” Tony starts with when he finally talks “There’s not much I can do when it comes to my reputation, or my laundry list of skills. But I’m not going to lie. Fact is, I was a real condescending prick in the Olympics. And for that, I’m sorry. It’s not really that much of a valid excuse, but my mother died of cancer six months before, and I sort of was never great to anyone during those times. So once again, sorry.” 

Tony almost starts to curl onto himself, his hand starting to fist. And Steve just can’t seem to utter any form of response. Of course they’re in the cancer ward. He remembers the file  Mother: Famed pianist Maria Carbonell, deceased, 2019, leukemia. He remembers the funeral being televised. Heck he remembers watching it. His mind starts to flash back over the last twenty four hours. He remembers the midnight snack and his sleeplessness, the pills, and how Tony always seem so tense yet so aloof at the same time in public. 

He knows a few things about this stuff. He remembers when Bucky was announced MIA, when he came back without an arm. He remembers the time of his parents’ divorce. He remembers running himself ragged in those times, hours upon hours beating punching bags to an un-recoverable state in the gym. He is- and was aware that there’s a high chance that he’ll never be enough for the world. After all that’s been given to him, Steve worries that he’s disappointing the entire world.

Tony clears his throat again, prompting Steve to at least  say something . “It’s nice to know that you’re not made of iron after all, Tony.”

“And to answer your question, I do like Star Wars, I like the prequels, and Empire Strikes Back is my favorite,”

“The prequels, really? I expected better of you.”

“Look, I absolutely adore the combination of Obi Wan, Anakin, and Padme. Revenge of The Sith especially was just amazing, okay? It’s just the sin of some shit dialogue that makes it have a bad rep,” Tony almost nears gushes.

“What about the world building? And space! Space especially. It’s Star Wars and the Prequels lack both” Steve argues back.

“The prequels had more than enough of space, trust me.”

“I don’t have to trust you, I’ve actually watched the movie with my own two eyes, Tony.” Steve exclaims, oh he’s really getting into it.

“The prequels are great,”

“The prequels are horrible.”

“You’re absolutely wrong, Steve. I hope you know that.” Tony says to him, obviously giving up on arguing on the topic any longer. It’s kind of silly after all. The prince of England and the first son of the United States stuck in a broom closet. Together. Talking about Star Wars. In the middle of a supposedly assassination attempt.

Right before Steve starts talking again, Tony interrupts him with a cough. He looks back to see Dum-Dum’s giant silhouette, Peggy standing next to him. “False alarm, someone brought fireworks, which granted is stupid but that’s it.” Peggy says with a heavy breath, he guessed that she then assessed his and Tony’s position and the room “Well, this certainly looks cozy,”

“We’re bonding,” Steve reaches a hand out and lets Dum-Dum help him to his feet.

The moment they arrive Kensington, Steve promptly takes Tony’s phone from his hand, inserting his contact information to his phone so quickly the surrounding PPOs never had the chance to tell him how it was a breach of royal protocol. There’s a car on the porch of the palace waiting to bring him to the airstrip, and back to America.

“You’re right. I need you. And hell, if we’re gonna stick with this, best friends have each others contacts, right?” Steve says. To this, Tony just looks bewildered.

“Right. I’ll make sure to... text you?” Steve wonders how Tony has any friends, really.

“Just try not to booty call me,” and Tony grins as if that’s the first thing he’s going to try doing. Figures.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ultimatestony) or maybe [tumblr](https://starkwiccan.tumblr.com) also please don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment! they feed my soul. hope you enjoyed! thanks for reading!


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